


Revelations

by Acidqueen (syredronning)



Series: Nasty MU series [2]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Body Modification, Forced Feminization, Kinky, M/M, Mirror Universe, Nasty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-23
Updated: 2010-09-23
Packaged: 2017-10-12 03:26:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syredronning/pseuds/Acidqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Spock and McCoy got bonded, McCoy helplessly suffers under the Vulcan's vengeful domination. This changes when Sarek visits the Enterprise.</p><p>(Alternative summary by Downdilly: "Spock and McCoy are hitched. Spock is not happy about it. Then the in-laws show up and things get really complicated." -- Thanks Downdilly, I love it ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revelations

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the Valentine Challenge, with three of my personal kinks. This story is the sequel to my story Tied, in which Spock and McCoy get bonded -- unknown to them, by a plot by Kirk. I also use the term and idea of "pleasure possession", which was invented by T'Guess.
> 
> Special thanks to my betas Hypathia and Janet!
> 
> Originally posted February 2003.

McCoy cautiously opened his eyes. He was already lying alone on the hard bed -- Spock was kneeling on the floor in his meditation robe, displaying an unusually relaxed face to the outside world. McCoy's gaze fell on the weapons that hung all over the bedroom's walls. He had considered making a nice, handy suicide for himself with them some days ago, before he had decided to use a painless drug instead. Spock, however, had had once more read his thoughts, and had given him a reminder of his potential for cruelty by informing him that his daughter Joanna would be killed if he attempted to get rid of himself, or Spock, or the both of them. And he had believed the Vulcan -- there seemed nothing Spock wouldn't do to make sure their relationship stayed the hell that it was for him.

He had never thought it possible that Spock could breed such hatred under his cool mask, but every night at the first officer's mercy taught McCoy something new about those dark sides. They were of a kind he would never have wanted to see in anyone, much less experience personally.

One day he had tried to talk about it with Kirk, but his carefully voiced complaint had earned him nothing more than a friendly clap on the shoulder and some apologetic remarks. "You know, since your bonding falls under Vulcan law, and as long as nothing he does interferes with ship's business, he has every right to you," Kirk had said. But what had he expected from Spock's best friend, anyway? Kirk was protecting Spock, just as Spock was protecting the Captain.

"You are late." Spock's cold voice cut through his thoughts. McCoy looked up to see the Vulcan standing at the table and sipping his morning tea. It was an image so peaceful that he would almost have forgotten the demon who visited him at night, were it not for his fresh bruises and strained muscles.

Without a remark McCoy left for the bathroom, hoping that Spock would leave before he came out again. He tensed when he turned on the sonic shower, fully expecting some further assault. Four weeks, three days, and five hours since their bonding, and much too much lifetime still ahead, he thought bitterly. When he stepped out again, Spock was still sitting in front of his computer, obviously managing ship's business.

Suddenly McCoy saw the Vulcan's face freeze, and despite his smoldering anger he asked, "Everything okay?"

Spock looked up at him with eyes as hard and black as obsidian. "You are late for your shift, Doctor. Leave before the booth will remind you of the need for punctuality."

And McCoy put on his clothes and left wordlessly.

*

Forty-three minutes later Spock met Kirk at the door to the shuttle bay.

"I was quite surprised to learn that Sarek would be coming on board this morning," the captain said. "Did he tell you beforehand?"

"It is not my father's habit to inform me of his plans," Spock replied flatly.

Kirk looked at him thoughtfully, and Spock was relieved when the green light announced that the shuttle hangar was closed and flooded with air. The door opened and they stepped into the bay, where at that same moment the bulkhead of Sarek's small ship was shifting and opening. Preceded by a bodyguard, a tall Vulcan stepped down the metal stairs and approached the two waiting men.

"Captain Kirk, it is a pleasure to meet you again," Sarek said, and raised his hand in the Vulcan salute.

"A pleasure likewise, Ambassador," Kirk replied with a nod, not even trying to mimic the gesture, "but also a surprise. I have been advised to follow your orders as long as you are on board."

Sarek shook his head slightly. "My only order will be a new course that will bring us to our next destination. Otherwise, I visit this ship not in official business, but for family reasons." He fixed his piercing gaze on Spock, who automatically stiffened under it.

Kirk's gaze traveled back and forth between the two Vulcans. "Well, since we are in a relatively secure area, I don't mind if you sort your private business with my first officer." He gave Spock a small nod. "I have to return to the bridge now. Your son will show you to your quarters." With a final bow towards Sarek he left the hangar.

Spock clutched his hands behind his back, wishing he could retreat like the captain.

"We have to talk," his father coldly stated in Vulcan.

"Follow me," Spock replied and turned. They walked down the corridor in silence.

Finally they reached the assigned VIP cabins. Sarek's bodyguards checked the rooms, searching for weapons as well as for surveillance equipment. Four small cams were found and disabled. Then Sarek sat down on the table, ignoring his servants, who checked in the luggage.

"Sit down," Sarek said.

"I am more comfortable standing, Father," Spock replied.

"I ordered you to sit down, Spock," Sarek stated sharply. "You seem to have forgotten proper Vulcan courtesy towards the head of the family."

Knowing that his behavior had indeed been insulting, Spock gave in and took his place.

"You also have forgotten proper procedures concerning your marriage," Sarek added acidly.

Spock's face turned to stone. "The bonding was not planned," he replied, cursing himself for not having killed the healer at the star base -- mercy never paid off in this universe.

"But it is a bonding nonetheless," Sarek said, taking a cup of tea from the hands of a woman without offering any to his son. "When would you have informed me?"

Spock stood in silence.

"Never, I take it," Sarek answered in his place. "But your plan failed, and I will make sure that your marriage will follow the rules of our house. It will be officially announced, and your spouse will take the proper place in our family."

"This marriage is an affront to our family," Spock replied flatly. "I wished to avoid this."

Sarek glanced at him. ""It is an affront which only bears on you, my son," he said icily.

"As your only son --"

Sarek raised his hand. "It is time to reveal the truth to you. Neither are you my only son, nor will you be my heir. Did you really think that I would lay the fate of our dynasty into the hands of a half-blood?"

Spock felt his body freeze, and silence hung between them for a long moment. "Why did you pretend otherwise?" he finally forced himself to ask.

"You were an ideal target for our enemies," Sarek stated motionlessly. "Especially with your choice of profession. This way the focus was on you, not on my heir."

Spock took a deep breath. "Logical," he said, grateful to hear that his voice was steady, although the parameters of his existence had just lost their reference frame. "Do I -- know him?"

"You have met him only once, on the event of the koon-ut-kalifee," Sarek replied, and sipped on his tea.

It took Spock another long moment to make the connection. Disbelief swung in his voice when he said the name, the single syllable roughly rolling over his tongue. "Stonn?"

Sarek placed the cup on the table before he looked at Spock. "Your betrothal with T'Pring was never intended to become a full bond. I had not anticipated that you would survive until your first Pon Farr, nor had I expected that others would be involved. How fortunate that Kirk was not killed."

Spock's brain seemed to forget how to parse words into meaningful units. He had known all his life that his father had despised him, but that Sarek had cold-bloodedly planned to sacrifice him was more than he could emotionally absorb at the moment.

"But back to our actual problem," his father's voice claimed his attention. "The human will be accorded proper status."

Spock swallowed hard and met his gaze. "Why should -- "

His father cut off his words. "You will accept him as she-mate," Sarek's voice was deliberately low.

Spock's controls slipped. "It is not my wish --" he began with barely restrained anger, but a wave of Sarek's hand made him stop. Behind him the door opened.

"Kroykah! Your wishes are of no concern," Sarek stated coldly. "My decision is made. I will personally survey his training. You are dismissed."

Spock clutched his hands so forcefully that his nails drew blood. Only now he became aware of McCoy's presence next to him. To know that the human had witnessed the scene, even though he could not possibly have understood the Vulcan words, made him cringe. His father was correct -- he never was and never would be a full Vulcan. He was a failure.

Without a glance at McCoy he rushed up and left.

*

For a second McCoy gazed after Spock. Maybe he should be happy about the plainly beaten look on the Vulcan's face, but whoever could produce that result with a simple discussion had to be a dangerous enemy, and so he met the elder Vulcan's judging eyes warily. A small but unequivocal message on his console had summoned him to this meeting with Spock's father, and he expected the worst.

Without greeting or introduction, Sarek stepped towards him and raised his right hand. "Give me your thoughts," he commanded.

McCoy swallowed hard and had to keep himself from withdrawing, but defiance was futile -- with the bond he had became a pawn in a Vulcan game he didn't even know the rules of, and this was just one more draw. "Go ahead," he murmured, and closed his eyes.

The mind-touch was smoother than he had expected, entering his mind almost softly. Relaxing, he soon dropped the small barriers he had learned to erect over the last weeks. Better to give his thoughts freely than to feel the ripping of borders, his inner voice told him. When Sarek withdrew, he opened his eyes again, but didn't dare to speak or move.

The Vulcan stepped towards the richly decorated table and sat down. "Take a seat, doctor," he said, and when McCoy didn't react at first, Sarek looked up to meet his gaze. "I have seen the reason for your reluctance, but I have no interest in forcing you to anything. I shall merely offer you an option to improve your somewhat... unfortunate situation."

"I see," McCoy said in a low voice, and took a chair, feeling even more uncomfortable with Sarek, now that they sat on the same table. The Vulcan was as much a patriarch as he had ever seen, and quite intimidating.

Sarek steepled his fingers in a familiar gesture. "That my son and you are bonded is a fact, whatever the reason. That you despise each other will not solve your problem. Nor that he treats you like his lowest slave, as he is able to with his mental and physical strength."

"Then what will?" McCoy asked defensively. No matter how precise the analysis was, he hated the feeling of being stripped down psychologically. His actual, fucked-up situation seemed pretty obvious to everyone on board already anyway, evoking a lot of rude jokes behind his back.

"Homosexual relationships are not unknown on Vulcan. However, they involve certain rituals and roles for the persons involved. The weaker male will become a she-male and adopt the role of ko-adun, which has the same status as a traditional wife."

The human swallowed. "And that means what, exactly?"

"You will be trained to experience sexuality as a woman does," Sarek said passionlessly. "There are many rules for the ko-adun position, and I will personally conduct your education."

"But I am a man... I mean, what about my male sexuality?" McCoy felt his hands go slick from sweat, and not only because of the overheated air in this room.

"You will forget about it. As I said, you will become a she-male."

McCoy shook his head. "Doesn't sound like a good deal," he replied. "What are my alternatives?"

"None," Sarek stated coldly. All former hints of compassion had left his voice. "If you do not accept this traditional position, Spock will exert his power over you unrestricted by any rules." Sarek's dark gaze probed into McCoy's eyes. "On the other hand, when you become his ko-adun you will both have rights and duties. He would not be free to abuse you anymore."

McCoy dropped his head remembering the last night with Spock. He'd do almost anything to make it end -- but it felt like a deal with the devil, what Sarek offered him. Especially since the Vulcan hadn't quite elaborated on what this she-male training implied.

"How long do I have to think about this?" McCoy asked after a short silence.

"You must decide now. Long consideration is for children," Sarek replied unmoved, and signaled a servant. She placed a green and a blue cup on the table in front of the human, and filled them both with wine.

"If you take the green cup, then you decline my offer and will stay as male in a relationship which will ultimately destroy you. If you take the blue cup, you accept my offer and will be trained to adopt the role of ko-adun. The decision is irreversible, once made." He looked at McCoy for a moment, who rubbed his hands in tension. "Spock does not want you to accept my offer," he added more softly.

"Why do you offer it to me at all?" McCoy asked roughly. "I don't see the logic --"

"My motives are not of your concern, human," Sarek stated, pure coldness in his voice again. "You should look after your own fate, and that alone."

McCoy fixed his eyes on the cups while he frantically considered his meager options --further torment and slavery, or a kind of sex change towards a position where he had some power of his own... He wished he knew more about Vulcan, but they were closed about their society... another draw in the game... green or blue...

Be a pawn or be the queen, he suddenly realized. Whatever the game was, he could only win by accepting Sarek's offer -- but then, did he really want to give up his masculinity? Between his legs his genitals twitched in foreboding, and he looked up again.

"Does the deal include -- castration?" he asked in a voice he could barely recognize as his own.

Sarek put one hand on the table and leaned back in his chair, almost giving an impression of amusement. "A logical question, which you are asking five point three minutes later than I expected. You, personally, will decide if and when you want to undergo such a surgery, but it is not mandatory. There is also no mandatory treatment with female hormones or other drugs."

"I admit that makes the decision somewhat easier," McCoy replied. He took the blue cup and circled it in his hand for a moment. "Blue for female -- the color of water?"

"Indeed," Sarek said. "The color of that which brings life to the desert, fruit upon the fields -- soft and compliant, yet strong and unbreakable."

"I hadn't known Vulcans were so poetic," McCoy murmured, and then he raised the cup with determination. "I accept your offer, Sarek." He took a gulp, and another one. Suddenly wetness filled his eyes as the reality of his surrender hit him. For a second, he thought about escape, and his gaze went erratically to the door, but it was blocked by a guard. Turning his head back to Sarek, he found himself caught in a stern gaze. The servant silently took the cup from his hand, and, as if having lost the last anchor, McCoy felt his hands start to tremble.

"We will begin immediately," Sarek said.

Fucked again, McCoy thought.

*

That evening, McCoy didn't come to Spock's cabin as Spock had ordered him to do, so Spock went to Sickbay, where the computer had registered McCoy's communicator. The doctor sat at the desk in his office, buried behind stacks of data padds and paper.

"Your office does not meet the ship's standard, doctor," Spock stated icily, as he surveyed the chaos.

McCoy looked up, an unreadable glimmer in his eyes. "That's what it looks like when I am hindered from doing over-time work by a certain person who demands my servitude in the evenings."

"How dare you speak to me like that," Spock replied, momentarily unable to disguise his astonishment on McCoy's obvious insult. Then, two fast steps brought him in front of the desk, where he bent over and grabbed McCoy's shirt front, pulling him to his feet. "You will pay for your words," he said through clenched teeth.

"I don't think so," the doctor replied sharply, and pushed Spock's hand away. Then he tugged on his shirt collar, uncovering a shiny necklace. "Do you see that, Spock? It's the mark of your father. I am officially under his protection, and I've been told that even touching me is grounds for execution. So don't you dare to touch me again, you bastard, or I'll be happy to see your head cut off with a lirpa!"

Spock looked at him, momentarily at a loss for words. Then he cleared his throat. "Indeed, Doctor," he said, while he was restoring his controls, "you are under his protection, and I accept this -- for the time being. Obviously you have entered the training to become a she-male under his supervision. I fail to understand how a man like you would agree to commit himself to a "training" that is in fact a sexual re-conditioning."

McCoy met his gaze with open hatred. "You fail to see?" he spit into the Vulcan's face. "Well, just remember some of the *beautiful* nights we had together. I used my regenerator more on me than on the rest of the crew over the last few weeks, thanks to your Vulcan stamina. And since I'm eternally tied to you by that damn bond, Sarek's offer seemed quite a good alternative!"

Spock leaned forward slightly and closed his eyes to slits, pleased to see McCoy pull back a fraction. "I will not apologize to you! That we are bonded at all is the result of your Terran weakness. But nevertheless, I fail to see how you could resist me for weeks, and then submit to my father within hours."

"He treats me like a human being, that's the difference" McCoy stated sharply.

"That is exactly what he does, Doctor -- he treats you like a weak, easily influenced, easily brainwashed human," Spock replied icily. "He manipulates everyone, I repeat, everyone. And you do not stand a chance against him."

"As long as I feel as good as I actually do, I don't give a damn about that," McCoy barked back. "And now I'd like to get back to my work, Mr. Spock."

Spock straightened his back. "You might do so, Doctor." He turned and left.

When the door had closed, McCoy leaned back into his chair and took a deep breath. His fingers glided over the hard surface between his legs where the Vulcan version of a chastity belt covered his genitals. There had been no pain when they had made the Prince Albert piercing that was needed to keep his penis in place, but it had felt weird to be locked up like this. And all Sarek had said was that he should return to him when he thought it was time, without further explanation.

No, he wasn't sure if his decision had been a sensible one. But it was irrelevant to ponder it, since there was no longer a way out of it.

*

"Come in, Captain," Sarek said as he opened the door for Kirk.

Kirk stepped in, a small smile on his lips. "Thank you for the invitation to dinner, Ambassador. Is there a special reason why I am honored like this?" He didn't mention that it usually was the captain's privilege to play the host -- Sarek's power was way beyond his own, despite the disguising title "Ambassador", and so this invitation perfectly reflected Kirk's weaker status. He had clenched his teeth for a moment upon receiving it, aware of the implicit command. But for now he was here and would play the game.

"I thought you might like to join us tonight," Sarek said, and led him towards the part of the cabin that was used as living room. Two Vulcan women approached, barely clad by a few straps and bands of colorful cloth. To one he held out two fingers, which she graciously touched with her own, delicate ones.

"This is my third wife, T'Opal. She will serve you tonight." The double meaning in Sarek's words couldn't be mistaken. "And this is T'Qel, who will serve me," he added with a nod in direction of the other woman.

"A pleasure to meet you, T'Opal," Kirk said, and bowed his head slightly towards his dinner partner, resisting the temptation to deliver an old-fashioned kiss on the hand. "Does your name come from the Terran gem?"

"Yes," Sarek replied instead of her. "It was judged appropriate."

Kirk grinned. "Yes, it does fit her." They walked over to the prepared table, where he took the place prepared for him. Admiringly he looked at her perfect figure, as she offered him a drink. "Exquisite," he said after the first sip. "Both the wine and the woman. I wonder, though," he added casually, "is it the custom on Vulcan to share one's wife with another man?"

"It is an honor bestowed upon important guests." Sarek held up his own glass, which T'Qel had given him.

"And what makes me an important guest in this case?" Kirk asked, sending a cautious gaze over the edge of his crystal glass towards Sarek.

"Your current position, your future ambitions," Sarek replied. "In case you do not meet your death prematurely, I estimate you will become a very influential person in the Empire."

"And your son, being my number one protector, looks after that danger," Kirk added, taking another sip before he set the cup down on the table.

Sarek let those words pass without comment, and Kirk decided to change the topic of conversation when the meal was served. They ate in silence, as that was custom on Vulcan. When the women had removed the dishes, Kirk reached again for the wine glass.

"Sarek," he began cautiously, "even though I might become an influential person one day, I am not one today. Is there something special you want from me?"

The Vulcan looked at him, an unreadable expression in his eyes. "Indeed, there is something I would ask of you. I am in need of McCoy's services for a week -- exclusively."

Kirk was well aware that Sarek didn't have to ask that -- he could have simply ordered him to put his chief medical officer on leave. That the Vulcan seemingly wanted to ensure his cooperation made Kirk suspicious and bold at once.

"He's one of my leading officers," he replied, "very important for his department. May I ask what you need him for?"

Silence hung between them for a moment, their gazes locked in an unvoiced argument.

"As you well know, he and Spock are bonded," Sarek said finally, without giving away his emotions in the matter. "There are things McCoy must learn to function in such a relationship."

Vivid pictures crossed Kirk's mind as he tried to interpret the Vulcan's words. Their gazes met again, and Kirk decided to push one step further. "Function?"

"This is a family matter, of which I will not speak further," the Vulcan replied coolly. "Do I have your cooperation?" An obvious threat hung in his words.

Kirk nodded slowly. "I will take him off the roster for a week. He's all yours."

"Then let us proceed to more interesting topics," Sarek said, and summoned T'Opal. She approached Kirk, lightly but unmistakably brushing over his shoulders with her hands.

"She is well-versed in sexual techniques. I recommend you let her take the lead."

"That's normally not my habit," Kirk replied with a light frown, but when she took his glass away and -- in the process -- rubbed her stiff nipples over his chest, he added, "Well, maybe it's time for... something new." In the end he let himself be led into the bedroom and gave in to her thorough seduction.

"Incredible," Kirk muttered when he stood under the flow of hot water two hours later. If that was what Sarek would teach McCoy, he almost envied Spock -- well, there was a certain possibility that Spock would share his "wife" just as Sarek had done tonight. A little persuasion by his friend and Captain should work wonders there...

Stepping out of the shower and into his clothes again, he returned to the living room where Sarek sat.

"I hope you were satisfied?" the Vulcan said.

"It's the best I've gotten in a very long time," Kirk replied. If Sarek wanted to make sure of his cooperation, it was a very nice bribe, he thought to himself.

"I am pleased to hear that," Sarek said, and stood up. "Good night, Captain. May sweet visions fill your dreams."

Kirk nodded. "May you also rest well, Ambassador. And thank you for your hospitality this evening."

"My pleasure, Captain," the Vulcan said and accompanied him to the door. When it had closed behind Kirk, T'Opal stepped near.

// Were you able to acquire the information? // Sarek asked over the bond.

// Of course. A human mind is like a sieve during sexual activity. // Her contempt for Terrans was barely disguised.

// They are weak in control, but often strong in determination. //

She raised an eyebrow. // Indeed? I will watch the training of Spock's ko-adun. I might learn what you mean by that. //

// He submits by his own choice. It would not be so easy if he fought me. //

Her fingers traveled over Sarek's face. // I do not believe that anyone can resist you, Sarek of Vulcan. Not even I could. //

// Indeed, T'Opal // he replied, caressing her breast. // Are thou fatigued, my wife? //

She opened her half-closed eyes again fullyagain and frowned. // From sexual activity with a human? Do you intent to insult me, my husband? //

// Never, // he said earnestly, and led her towards the bedroom.

*

It was early in the next morning when McCoy awoke with a stinging pain in his abdomen. Cringing he went into the bathroom and switched on the lights to examine the problem. It was the belt -- or rather his penis that had started to change into his normal morning hard-on, but had encountered the hard surface. From the feel of it, the belt had to be spiked inside. Breathing heavily, McCoy moved into the shower and poured hot water over the punctuated covering. Traces of blood were flowing down his legs and whirling into the drain, but the warmth made at least made his penis decrease slightly. He closed his eyes and focused on some unexciting images until the pain diminished to a bearable level. Time to visit Sarek, he decided and stepped into loose clothes. His chime at the Ambassador's cabin minutes later was answered immediately, and so he faced the Vulcan shortly after.

"I presume you have an urgent reason for your call," Sarek said.

Blushing on the mocking subtone, McCoy replied, "I do. The belt is quite... uncomfortable this morning, to say the least."

"I see," the Vulcan replied deadpan. "I will release you from your pain." He touched McCoy's face for the mind contact, and McCoy felt the blood leave his penis in a rush.

"Neat trick," he said roughly when Sarek withdrew.

"An ability you will achieve yourself, soon," the Vulcan stated, and turned to disappear into the bedroom again.

McCoy tensed. "Sarek," he said, "the skin was pierced at several points. I should treat it before it gets infected."

The Vulcan seemed to ponder over his answer for a moment, but then he turned back towards him. "You will not do so, but my servants will. They are experienced in healing minor wounds."

It wasn't quite McCoy's expected treatment, being stripped of his clothes and having smooth metal cuffs locked around each of his wrists and ankles, but he was too weary to protest. The pain in his crotch increased slightly as his wrists were chained to a bar that hung from the ceiling. Another bar was connected between his legs, and in the end he was spanned helplessly between the two, tightly bound in a spread-eagle position. Foreboding made him shiver as he was also blindfolded, but he was too unsettled to say anything, now that he was so completely at the Vulcan's mercy.

The stinging chastity belt was removed, and to his surprise he felt warm water, then medical scanners working on him.

His penis stirred again at the servants' touch, and embarrassment flooded him. His body longed for an orgasm even in this humiliating position, but he was sure he wouldn't get one tonight. Pressing his lips tightly together he decided to bear the situation as honorably as possible -- no need to show off his human weaknesses.

Hot fingers touched his melding points once more, and again the erection went soft. Then McCoy felt the belt closing around his abdomen again, and with a faint sound the lock snapped. A small moan escaped him involuntarily, as arousal hit him full-fledged. "Damn," he gasped as his cock jerked against the stinging spikes again. "Sarek, please, let me have an orgasm," he heard himself begging. "Being so horny is damn painful with that thing."

"You will learn to control," the Vulcan replied unmoved. "Concentrate on how I do it."

The hot fingers pressed on the melding points, and McCoy followed the alien thoughts through his mind to his center of arousal, where a small stimulation of certain nerves sent the relaxing impulses down to his genitals. When Sarek withdrew, the pain in his abdomen was gone.

"I'm not sure if I can do that by myself," McCoy said in a low voice.

"You will learn," the disembodied voice answered.

He felt the air stirring around him as bodies shifted in position, and for a second he tensed in fear, but then fingers softly caressed his back, massaging his shoulders and sides. Other hands mirrored those movement on his chest, tugging on his nipples. The touches were welcome, in principle, but once again he felt his blood flow down to his groin, and so he tried to pull back from them. The strain on his wrists increased from the movement, but the touches continued.

"Please," he muttered, when arousal and pain had built up again in equal measure and his penis began to contact sharp metal.

"Concentrate, human," Sarek ordered. "Exert your control."

'Easier said than done,' McCoy thought caustically for a moment, until the stinging got worse and he earnestly fought to control himself; but knowing a brain by heart and, on the other hand, sending the correct orders to specific nerves were very different matters. Sweat began to pour down his forehead and was captured by the blindfold as he struggled for control with increasing desperation. Between his legs, the first spikes cut through the skin.

"It doesn't work," he muttered. "I just can't get it to work. Damn!"

"We have time, human," the Vulcan's voice sounded from farther away.

McCoy sought frantically for an escape. "I have to be on duty at 0700," he stated, more sternly than he felt. Sickbay was the just right place to go now; there he could stop his arousal with a drug. Looking back, he couldn't explain to himself why he hadn't thought of that solution in the first place.

Fingers trailed along his lips. "You are in error," Sarek said softly. "We have one week, undisturbed. Your captain has granted you special leave."

"What kind of conspiracy is this, dammit?" McCoy gasped. "I thought you promised you wouldn't hurt me, but what you're actually doing feels a lot more like torture. I'm jumping out of this weirdo contract --"

The unexpected kiss silenced him efficiently, and he felt his body respond to it involuntarily. His hips shifted, rubbing on a half-clad body, touching hot skin and soft cloths. Palms ran down his outer thighs and up to the buttocks and stimulated him further. He felt his eyes wet as more pain in his crotch followed this response, and in the end he sobbed into the Vulcan's mouth, pleading for release in his mind.

Just as unexpected as the kiss before was the meld now: strong, overwhelming, pulling him towards Sarek and diving into his own mind at the same time. Silvery strings entangled his thoughts, bound them just as tight as his body. He saw his heart beating in his ears, heard his breathing in his mouth; a smell of light as reality shifted. Through his veins a flow of fire, burning him from deep inside. Gravity released him as his body began to drift in a sparkling space. He was feeling... so good.

He blinked as the world rotated and ended up with him on his feet again. The blindfold was removed, and Sarek met his gaze.

"I promised, and I will keep my promise. But you have to cooperate."

"What do I have to do?" McCoy whispered. In his groin the pain was less, but still tangible, a low pulsing as if of dense electricity.

"To strive to do your best," Sarek replied. "I will teach you all you need to know, but I am a stern teacher, human." His fingers clamped onto McCoy's right nipple and twisted it, evoking a sharp breath from the human. "I will punish you when you fail, and I will reward you when you succeed." His hands moved over the melding points, and McCoy felt the pain diminish again.

"I'll try, Sarek, I will. I promise," he said, trembling. "Teach me what to do."

Another lesson learned, Sarek noted with satisfaction.

*

"It doesn't work," McCoy said in frustration early the next morning, and closed his hands around the bar. "I can control it all day, but these morning hard-ons are out of my control." Before him, the servant was kneeling and applying once more the skin regenerator to his bleeding penis.

Sarek nodded. "I must admit I had not foreseen this problem. But I have a solution to it -- you will not have to wear the belt at night."

"Logical," McCoy replied, but fell silent under Sarek's stern gaze.

"I will, however, ensure that you will have no opportunity to take advantage of this situation," the Vulcan added.

Shortly thereafter, McCoy again found himself lying on his back in Sarek's bed, his manacled wrists chained above his head, his legs spread by the bar. The air on his newly exposed genitals caused an instant arousal, but he forced it back. He didn't want to let the Vulcan down -- he wanted to please him. Sarek had taken care of him all the last day, over and over again helping him with his control, teaching him how to stimulate the correct brain regions and nerves to diminish his arousal. He had been so proud when he had finally succeeded, and he had seen this feeling mirrored in those black eyes. Sarek wasn't as cold a Vulcan as he had seemed at first, no way. Sarek was different.

Sleepily, McCoy shifted his body -- he hadn't yet found the most comfortable position with the chains, and he felt the strain in his arms and shoulders. Above his head, the metal links made a small sound.

"You will adapt," Sarek said beside him, and massaged his arms. "It is all a matter of practice."

McCoy closed his eyes and fell asleep on the caressing touch, a small smile on his face.

Two hours later he was awakened, blindfolded and tied to the bars. His body was washed before the belt was closed again. But instead of simply releasing him, they left him to stand there. He waited in silence, postulating that this was a test; and better not to fail it, he thought. Where he had felt helplessness before, what he felt now was relaxation, mixed with anticipation.

Someone stepped close, and he heard Sarek's voice next to his ear. "Time for the next lesson. Do not speak. Do not move."

There was a small humming sound behind him, and McCoy held his breath as he felt a slick, but hard tool touching his anal opening. It crossed his mind that it had to be a vibrator, and he tensed against the expected entry. That hadn't been a part of their deal, he thought in an angry rush, and bit his lips. But the tool didn't push in; instead, it danced across his opening and the perineum in soft circles. Soon arousal crept up his spine, tangible heat spreading through his abdomen. It took all his control to keep the blood out of his penis, but after a while sweat poured down his upper lip and his hands gripped the bar painfully, as he was losing the fight. His whole body trembled as he called upon his last resources, unwilling to be defeated by such a small, ridiculous device, but he couldn't keep his body from responding to the erotic assault. His whole body called out for more, causing his hips to shift backwards involuntarily, inviting a deeper probing. He gasped as the vibrator carefully entered him, and in the belt his penis began to bloom. Torn between pain and arousal once again, he was hanging in his bonds, wanting more and at the same time knowing he wouldn't be able to bear it.

Warm fingers touched his temple, and another meld opened.

// You must redirect the arousal; only this will allow you release. I will teach you how to do that. //

Sarek's thoughts wandered down his mind once more, manipulating certain nerves in another brain region, and McCoy intensely tried to memorize the way. In his groin, the blood stopped filling the penis and shifted away into the main abdomen and anal region, where it was welcome by the vibrator. The Vulcan's thoughts retracted from his mind and McCoy's awareness fully concentrated on his own body again. The stirring tool entered him deeper, and he gave into the sensation as it brushed over his prostate. Stretching his body to the max, he thrust onto the vibrator hard now, but however close release seemed, it was escaping his grip again and again. He couldn't hold back a frustrated moan when, after a while, his penis stirred again, too, and suddenly, like a breaching dam, all control failed him. He gasped as the stings cut deeply into his straining erection, and in pain he clamped his hands around the bar. For a moment, he vainly pulled on it with all his might, before he remembered that only one person could help him.

"Sarek," he moaned in surrender, "please, help me. I'm trying, I'm really trying, but I can't make it work. It --"

// Shh, do not disappoint me, human. You are not allowed to speak. Try harder; you will succeed. //

Breathing hard, McCoy fought against his weakness. Vulcan rules swirled in his mind... the mind is stronger than the body... pain is a thing of the mind... He couldn't remember having learned Vulcan... it had to be Sarek... the pain is stronger than the body... no, wrong... don't think, just follow the rules... Sarek's rules... Vulcan...the mind is stronger than the body...

// Yes, // swung through his mind, and then he was alone again. His awareness returned, endlessly slowly, as if his brain was unwilling to face reality. But when he finally opened his senses, all pain was gone.

"You succeeded," Sarek stated with satisfaction, and McCoy's heart jumped at those words. Sensing the Vulcan in front of him, he leaned forward until his head rested on Sarek's body. Warm fingers took hold of his shoulders and massaged his tired muscles.

"You have earned a rest," the Vulcan said softly. "You will bathe now and relax. Our lessons will begin again in two point five hours."

"Thank you," McCoy whispered, as he felt the bounds removed. Freed from the blindfold, his eyes watered when they met the bright light, and it took him a moment to stand steady on his feet.

"Come with me," one of the Vulcan woman said and he followed her into the bathroom.

Moments later he lay in a hot tub. Leaves of plants, unknown to him, swam in the water and released intensely aromatic oils. His strained muscles and sinews welcomed the bath, and he could feel the last bit of physical tension flow from his body.

Looking down his body, he saw the metal surface shimmering in the distorted underwater light. He hadn't had a chance to touch it for a day, but now he reached out for it. The metal was smooth on the outer side; small holes in it allowed for cleaning without removal. Tracing the sides with his fingers, he found it ensheathed his genitals tightly, closing onto the skin without cutting into it. The fit was optimal, for a chastity belt. Suddenly he longed to touch his balls and the soft skin of his scrotum, to closed his hands around his cock and rub himself. Leaning back into the tube, he tried to push his little finger under the edge of the belt.

"Kroykah," the woman said, and grabbed his right wrist just over the ankle cuff, pulling his arm painfully out of the water. "You will not touch yourself like this."

He looked up to meet her gaze, unsure of her position and her rights over him. "The skin was hurt again -- it would be sensible to check the penis," he replied defensively.

"You will not touch it ever again in your life, human," she said sternly. "Take your hands out of the water."

He swallowed hard and sat up in the tub. "What do you mean, never again? Sarek promised there would be no castration --"

"To wear the belt of a ko-adun is just as good as castration, human. Your genitals will cease to exist for you," she replied coldly. "Logic should have told you this, had you thought the implications through."

McCoy rose up in the tub in sudden panic. The training conditions had seemed acceptable and even partly arousing, but this new revelation made his stomach cringe. A desperate, insane need to touch his cock spread through him, and he grabbed the belt in an attempt to tear it off.

She closed her hand around his wrist once more and twisted his arm until he buckled in pain.

"Let me go," he hissed and tried to punch her with his other arm, but she was stronger and faster than he was. When her fingers stabbed in his side next to his lungs, he collapsed on his knees. The sudden pain made him utter a low cry.

"Kroykah!"

At Sarek's voice, both stopped in mid-action. Unintelligible words were exchanged between the Vulcans for a moment, and then the woman fell silent and left hurriedly.

Sarek approached the tub. "Are you hurt?" he asked.

McCoy had already blinked away the tears his fall had caused, and shook his head now. "No, not really," he replied. His determination to leave decreased as he looked up at Sarek now. "I... she said I would never again be allowed to touch my genitals."

The Vulcan reached out with his hand and traced the human's face. "You are not allowed to do so for the duration of the training. After your training is complete, you may, if that is your wish."

McCoy took a deep breath. "I see." Their eyes met, and sudden arousal flooded him, which he could barely shift away from his cock. His body began to tremble, from the water cooling on his upper body and the dismantling gaze from the Vulcan.

"Stand up and turn around," Sarek said quietly. "Place your hands on the wall."

Like in a dream, McCoy moved to face the white surface, automatically spreading his hands and legs. The warm water slapped against his lower legs, caressing his skin.

It was a feathery touch on his inner thighs, and very slowly it moved upwards, entering his cleft and passing it to circle to the side above his right buttock. Bending his back, McCoy shifted his hip, offering his entry in an obtrusive motion. "Touch me, please," he whispered. 'Oh god, enter me,' he thought frantically, 'open me up, fuck me.'

Fingers ran down to his buttocks again, and then they spread the cheeks. Cooler air touched his orifice, and he shivered in excitement. His hands blindly searched for handholds, but he didn't find any.

"Do not move," Sarek ordered. "Do not move a single muscle."

Pressing his hands into the wall, McCoy froze in place, waiting for whatever was to come. In the end, the intrusion was small, so much smaller than expected, than desired. Too small to satisfy him. Just one small finger rubbing --

"Yes," he gasped almost inaudibly as it rubbed against his prostate. He felt his bladder responding at first, and then the heat building up in his abdomen. He had to channel it away from his penis... he could do it...

His control flipped, and he moaned in pain as his cock extended. Nevertheless he impaled himself on the Vulcan's digit, desperately wanting more, no matter what it cost him. But the intruder withdrew, leaving him empty and unsatisfied.

"You are not ready," the Vulcan's voice sounded in his back. "We will proceed as I originally planned."

McCoy's eyes were wet again, but now from frustration. He had disappointed his teacher; he had disappointed himself. Ever so slowly he reassumed control over his body, feeling the spikes leaving his skin during the process. Behind him steps trailed off and others came closer, while he still didn't dare move.

"Turn and step out off the tub," someone ordered, and he complied. Soon he was rubbed dry, led out of the bathroom, and chained to the bars again. Closing his eyes behind the blindfold, he relaxed in fatalism. His own failure had brought him here again, and whatever they would do to him would be the rightful punishment, and only intended to improve him -- he still had to learn so much.

*

Spock rotated in his chair towards the monitor out of habit, but it stood dark for room 242D, as it had since the moment his father's bodyguard cut off the surveillance. He knew he was spending too much time in his cabin, neglecting his duties towards the ship, but he could not shut the emotions out that traveled over the bond. Arousal and the wish to please, inextricably entangled. Between his legs his erection strained painfully against his tight trousers. His shields were slowly disintegrating under the constant impact from his mate; where he had been able to keep McCoy's burning hate at bay, burning lust found its way -- if because of the bond or because of his lack of experience with this feeling, he did not know. And it was irrelevant at the moment, he decided, as his hand made its way under his waistband and to his crotch almost on its own. It grabbed his cock and enclosed it tightly, and intense sexual fantasies began to dance before his inner eye. Soon he rubbed up and down furiously, pushing his body towards the craved orgasm, but it escaped him. He didn't need his hand -- he needed his mate, his bonded human, to cool his desires.

Taking a deep breath, he released his shaft. His hand weakly fell down from his thighs and came to rest hanging freely in the air. He desperately needed McCoy --. who was at present as far out of his reach as the Orion nebula.

*

Sarek watched as T'Opal once more knelt down behind the chained human, who hadn't uttered a single sound in the last thirty minutes. "Is he prepared?" he asked with a hint of impatience. "I have just cleaned off," she said in a low voice without looking up. He could read her fear over the bond as he stepped behind her; the welts on her back from his beating were already coloring in various shades of blue and green, but he knew that the service he had enforced on her was the part of her punishment she found hardest to bear. Hastily she washed away the last reminders of the enema on the human's body, and disappeared into the bathroom with the bowl.

"Insert the dildo," Sarek ordered her when she returned, and wordlessly she fetched a medium-sized metal dildo and some lubricant. After applying the lube on her fingers and the dildo, she slowly inserted a first finger into the human's tight anal canal. The human visibly tensed at this intrusion.

"Slower," he said warningly in Vulcan. He walked around the bound figure and touched the human's temple.

// You will like it. Relax. Open for it. Do it for me. //

With interest Sarek followed the human's chaotic brain processes, as weary insecurity changed into surrender. Heat built up in the abdomen, but the human had learned to redirect it, and so the heat closed around the entering fingers now, embracing them hungrily.

Sarek sent a mental nod to his wife without breaking the meld with the human, and he felt the smile on his own lips when he joined the human's increasing arousal as the dildo smoothly entered and filled the willing body.

// Sarek... // the human's thoughts called out for him, a plea for release accompanying his name.

Blindly Sarek fished for the small controller in his pocket with his free hand, unwilling to leave the human's mind. His thumb found the jog and turned it a fraction, and instantly the body next to him began to shiver. Sarek increased the impulse, and the shivering turned into shaking.

// What are you doing to me? // the human sobbed, and pain flooded them as the strain in the bound arms and the stinging on the belted groin met.

Sarek softly redirected the blood flow into the anal and prostate region, increasing the arousal there, before he took care of the strained muscles.

// You will learn to experience a new kind of orgasm, // he sent over.

Small sounds indicated Sarek that the dildo was irremovably locked to the belt, and only then he withdrew from the human's mind.

"Sarek..." his victim whispered, shivering.

"Learn to feel deep inside of you, human," Sarek said. "Learn how it feels when the pleasure stays within your groin."

He stepped back and addressed T'Opal in Vulcan. "Teach him his duties as wife of a Vulcan," he said. "I will retreat to work now. Call me when he has mastered the latest lesson." Sarek touched the dial control once more, and the human's head fell in his neck with a moan while his hips moved erratically. "It should not take him long," he added dryly.

*

"You learn, human," T'Opal said two days later, as they knelt before the low table after another lesson, and McCoy interpreted it as laud, even though it had taken him a day to memorize the highly ritualized Vulcan version of a tea and meal ceremony.

"You will serve Sarek today," she added, and he nodded, now in pleasant anticipation. He was eager to show his teacher his newest accomplishments, and he also longed to experience his care again. In his abdomen, the low pulsing of the electro-dildo was a steady reminder of his new possibilities. The level was too low for orgasm right now, but it could change anytime; Sarek might change it anytime, and allow him release from his always-lingering arousal.

As if the Vulcan had read his thoughts, he appeared in the door and looked down on them. McCoy bent his head just as T'Opal did on his side, and remained in that position as they exchanged some Vulcan words. He startled slightly as fingers stroked through his hair.

"I am pleased to hear about your good progress," Sarek said from above. "It is time for another lesson. Come with me."

McCoy followed the Vulcan into the bedroom, where Sarek sat down on the bed and directed him to kneel in front of him between his thighs. McCoy's eyes fixed on the Vulcan's groin where an obvious bulge under the soft cloth indicated an erection. Slowly Sarek opened his robe, releasing his pulsing cock into freedom. The sight aroused McCoy instantly, and he pressed his palms forcefully on his upper thighs to avoid any movement. Sarek had kept his promise, and never approached him like this -- to McCoy's dismay, lately. He was ready, so ready now to be not only filled by the dildo, but by the Vulcan himself...

Sarek deliberately let his fingers travel over the shaft and the glans, rubbing up and down invitingly. "Tell me what you think, human," he said. His middle finger circled over the cockhead, which made it dance before the human's eyes.

"Allow me to please you," McCoy whispered, unable to shift his gaze away from the Vulcan's genitals.

"Do not lie to me," Sarek stated coldly. "You desire something different."

McCoy took a deep breath. "I wish to feel you inside of me," he admitted almost inaudibly.

Suddenly Sarek's hand was under his chin and forced his head up. Their gazes met. "Your wishes are irrelevant," Sarek said in a low voice. "All that is important for you are my wishes, my pleasure." The Vulcan's hand fixed on the melding points again, and sexual images swept through McCoy's mind, positions, touches, feelings, burning themselves in his brain.

When reality came back to him, he knelt in front of the Vulcan's cock, and long fingers traveled up and down the erection. "Tell me what you think, human," Sarek asked.

McCoy followed the movements with his eyes, and desire swept over him, the desire to do everything for this man. "Allow me to please you," he whispered with a plea.

"How would you please me?" Sarek asked, his thumb circling around his glans. "Tell me."

"I would take you into my mouth, close my lips over the base of your shaft and suck you. I would rub my lips up and down your cock, take it deep inside my warmth and release it again. I would lick its lower side with my tongue, wetting it with my spit." McCoy shivered as arousal forced him to exert control over his abdomen, where even the low pulsing of the vibrator threatened to bring him to orgasm now.

"And then?" Sarek asked, still touching his cock in long, slow strokes.

McCoy closed his eyes. "I would relax my throat and allow you to claim my mouth fully."

"That would please you?" the dark voice said inquiringly.

McCoy opened his eyes again and whispered, "Whatever pleases you, pleases me."

He saw the Vulcan's eyes focus on him and tensed in fear, wondering if he had disappointed his teacher with his answer. But then soft fingers stroked over his forehead and temples before they closed around his head and pulled him forward.

"Please me," Sarek ordered, and McCoy bent his head to do just that.

*

Another two days later, T'Opal stood on the threshold of Sarek's bedroom. "He is ready?" she asked in Vulcan, as she examined the sleeping figure. The human lay on his back, once more chained and spread, though it did not serve a purpose any more -- the belt enclosed him day and night now, since the morning erections had ceased to exist.

"He is ready," Sarek replied, and joined her side. "His organism has reacted well to the implants, the cuts have healed without complications."

She nodded. Not every body did accept the traditional metal beads that were inserted into the ko-adun's nipples to simulate the erect nubs of females, but they were as important as the belt to his status. "I have to admit, it has enhanced his visual appearance," she said.

"Not longer jealous, my wife?" Sarek asked with a risen brow.

She met his gaze, aware she was walking on dangerous ground. She was not expected to feel, especially not jealousy. Their bond should have given her all assurance of her status, but Sarek's behavior could evoke... irritation in her, sometimes.

"You wish to take his place?" he asked in a low voice, and his forefinger drew a line from her neck down to her navel. Images of her spread, chained body flooded her over their bond, seen through his eyes.

"No, my husband," she replied controlled, and straightened her back. "I will supervise the preparations for our departure. At which time do you intend to hold the ceremony?"

"Tonight at 2000. Inform Spock that his attendance is mandatory," Sarek said.

And T'Opal stepped out of the bedroom, leaving her husband with his newest creation.

*

When Spock entered Sarek's room as summoned, he instantly saw the blindfolded human. McCoy's body was tied up spread-eagled between two bars, freshly shaven and oiled and shimmering in the bright light of the cabin. His genitals hung freely and exposed, and T'Opal knelt in front of him, her hands just traveling down his inner thighs.

It was a test, Spock realized, and he placed himself in silence before the wall next to the door. His eyes were following the woman's every movement, as she stroked the penis and scrotum up and down with her hands. Then she bent forward and sucked in the wizened skin of the unmoved penis. Releasing it again, she pulled the foreskin back and licked over the glans, which bore a metal piercing, obviously trying to elicit a reaction from the male genitals.

Outwardly cool and controlled, Spock felt the fires inside of him burning high, as the bond fully pulled him now towards the human in the middle of the room. Jealousy made him clench his hands into fists. This was his mate that was being touched by someone else, his mate that had been trained by his father. More than once he had stood before the closed doors of Sarek's cabin, called by the human's emanations of lust. Forcing himself away had proven harder every time, and today he would not leave without him. Today he would claim his mate back, as it was his right.

Suddenly T'Opal stood up. McCoy's genitals had remained retracted during the entire treatment.

"He has passed," she stated in Old Vulcan.

"He has passed," the other Vulcans repeated in affirmation.

"The golden belt," Sarek said, and extended his palms. Behind him a servant went for the girdle.

Spock stepped forward. "It is my right to lock the final belt," he stated sternly.

"You claim him?"

"I do."

Sarek put down his hands, and folded them over his light robe. "On which right?"

"He is my bondmate."

"You mistreated him. You denied him his rights."

"I will not do so in the future."

Sarek looked at him for a moment, and then he opened his robe. "We will compete for him. He shall decide."

"Compete? I will not compete! He is mine!" Spock rasped, and made a rushed step to get in the way between his father and the bound human. Instantly the lirpa of the guard was at his throat, blocking his movement.

"You will not succeed, when you are so emotionally obsessed," Sarek stated coolly, and let his robe glide down his arms. A servant fetched it before it could fall to the floor. In disbelief Spock stared at his naked father.

"What do you want from him? He is my mate. You cannot want him."

Sarek closed in on Spock, facing him from the other side of the lirpa. "He is water in its purest form. I found him sensuous and delicate. He is... refreshing." He turned towards McCoy, and put his hand on the human's chest who moaned on this touch.

Instinctively Spock moved forward, but the lirpa was still at his throat. He barely registered the wetness where it cut his skin.

Sarek turned his head to face his son once more. "We will compete for him. If you do not participate, he will be mine." His forefinger circled over the human's enhanced nipples.

"Yes," the human whispered, inclining his head in his neck in an offering gesture.

"You have trained him," Spock said in a final plea. "I do not stand a chance against you." All control fled him, as the burning and the fear of a very possible loss of his mate summed up inside of him. "Do not challenge me like this."

Sarek's only answer was the kiss he pressed on the human's lips, which willingly parted to this attack. The Vulcan's tongue deeply probed into the mouth, tasting the alien, salty taste of waterworlders. For a second Sarek regretted that the blindfold hid those blue eyes, but humans were too easily visually distracted; only with proper restraints they concentrated solely on themselves. He extended his arms outwards to match the human's position, and let his fingertips travel from the wrists, down the bound arms, to the armpits, rubbing over the freshly shaven skin. The human twitched at his touch, shifting his hips blindly towards the Vulcan's body.

Sarek repeated his movement, but this time he bent his fingers and scraped with his nails, leaving sharply marked, red lines on the pale skin. His victim gasped again, a small sound from the edge of pain. His body instinctively shifted backwards, but his restraints gave no way for substantial escape.

"Give yourself to me," Sarek murmured. How alien those ancient words of claiming sounded when they were spoken in Standard, how much of their intensity they lost. But this weakening matched his intentions.

"Give yourself to me," Sarek said once more, before he lowered his head and began to suck on one of the nipples which prodded up from the flat chest. Fastening his teeth carefully behind the implanted metal bead, he let his tongue travel around the tip, while his hands closed over the human's sides. A trembling went through the body, and once more the human tried to escape, but Sarek's grip held him in position. Freeing one nipple, he moved over to the second one and licked over it with his tongue. Its rough surface rasped over the stretched skin, eliciting a weak moan from his victim. Raising again, he claimed the human's mouth for another intruding kiss, while he closed his arms around the cool chest. Body pressed on body as his nails fixed into the soft skin on the back, and then he slowly pulled them to the sides. He felt the wetness on his fingers as he drew blood on the way. The human harshly breathed in his mouth, fighting off a sob. Three times Sarek repeated this movement, marking the human's back all over, till in the end he rubbed his fingers over the sticky surface. Retreating, he released his shivering victim out of his embrace. Traces of red were on his hands, and he distributed the darkening liquid onto the human's face when he traced those features with his fingertips.

"Please." It was barely a whisper, and it was all that the human would dare to plea, Sarek thought with satisfaction. His fingers brushed over the red lips and pushed between them. Without hesitation they parted for them, and soon he thrust three fingers into the warm wetness, imitating intercourse. The human sucked on them eagerly, curling his tongue on their lower side as Sarek has taught him. After some moments the Vulcan waved a servant, and when the man had disengaged the bar from the rope it hung on, he released the human's mouth from his intrusion. Capturing his slightly swaying victim, he lowered him down on his knees. The human's arms were still tied to the bar that now hung loosely on his level of his groin; his knees rested on the floor, forced ten inches apart.

"Open for me," Sarek commanded, stroking his already enlarged cock to full erection. Closing one hand over the back of the human's head, he guided his penis into the welcoming wetness. Hot lips closed over his shaft in arousing friction, while a soft tongue worked on his glans. In a sudden surge of pleasure he lowered his chest, stroking through the human's dark hair. Then he turned his head and gazed over his shoulder back to his son through half-closed lids. A small, ironic smile crossed his face as he saw Spock's rigid stance, but then another wave of arousal pulsed through him and he discarded any thought of his surroundings. He began to thrust into the human's mouth that relaxed in adjustment to his quicker movements, and thus allowed him a deep penetration. Closing his eyes fully, Sarek let the rhythm of their joining take over, giving away some of his restraints to follow the dance of the waves which carried him higher and higher.

Only in the last moment he withdrew, breathing hard, barely able to hold back his orgasm. This human was dangerous water indeed, Sarek realized as he towered over him -- a maelstrom, ready to swallow him up and suck him into the depth of its blue ocean. But it was not yet time.

"I will take you," he said roughly and stepped around the kneeling, gasping figure. The blindfolded head tilted on his words, following the sounds of his steps in a slight rotation. The human's mouth was still open, and Sarek heard the flow of air being inhaled and exhaled sharply between the quivering lips. The alien scent of arousal hung in the air, and it pulled Sarek forward. Quickly lowering himself on one knee behind the human, he bent down to release the ankles from the bar, knowing that his victim wouldn't dare to move. Handing the bar over to his servant, he crouched between the spread legs. For a brief moment he touched the striped skin with his palms, caressing the red, slightly encrusted lines up and down the back, eliciting once more a moan from the human. Then he closed his hands over the collarbones and, meeting only compliance, pressed the body down until the human's weight rested on his hands and knees. Removing his hands from the scraped shoulders, Sarek brushed down the back until his fingers ended on the slim buttocks. Stroking over the human's hips and then the outer and inner thighs, he circled towards his goal. In the end he pressed his hands between the buttocks and stretched them to either side, opening the kneeling being for his entrance. A slight shift of his hips let the tip of his cock touch the well-oiled, stretched opening, making the human tremble in response. Closing one hand around his shaft to ease penetration, Sarek slowly entered the human until he was encased to the hilt. The human closed the sphincter around his shaft, enveloping his penis so tightly that the arousing impact caused Sarek to inhale sharply. Both of them were breathing heavily by now, and the Vulcan felt the sweat that poured down the human's skin. He bent down on the human's back and closed one arm around his abdomen, taking him into a stabilizing grip before carefully beginning to thrust in a steady rhythm. Soon they were dancing again on the waves together, and for a moment Sarek was tempted to reach out for the human's melding points to claim him for once and all -- but even in his deepest pleasure his calculating brain ruled, holding back his hand though it could not hold back the tinge of regret.

Oblivious to reality now, they were moving in a new choreography of bodies, both instinctively knowing that this dance would be their last one, and the best one -- perfection of the end, climax in descent. In ecstatic rhythm the waves pulled them over the edge, collapsing over them, drowning Sarek with the aqueous human sensuality, sweet, cool fluid in his Vulcan fires, and his hands clamped so tightly into the body under him that the human cried out in pain. Then Sarek released his grip and pulled out of him. Taking a deep breath, he lowered himself back on his heels. So much water in this one, he thought with a final touch on the pale skin. So much water...

Taking another breath, he stood up. T'Opal met his eyes, and a trace of concern traveled over the bond.

"Clean him, and then prepare him for Spock," Sarek ordered, pushing all emotions away. He walked towards his wife without a backward glance.

// Did I perform satisfyingly? // he sent to T'Opal in barely disguised sarcasm, and put on the robe that was offered to him.

// I envied him, // she replied, slightly tilting her head.

Sarek raised a brow.

// I ask forgiveness, // T'Opal's dark eyes briefly met his before she dropped her gaze. // I have trespassed again. //

// You have, // he replied coldly. Taking a glass of wine, he turned away from her towards the human, who was once again bound into the spread-eagled, standing position. On his arms, the red reminders of Sarek's treatment began to pale.

"He may begin," Sarek stated in Old Vulcan, and looked towards his son.

*

Spock barely registered when the lirpa was pulled back from his throat. Having followed the erotic play in front of him with a feeling of unreality, his emotions were in turmoil -- a dangerous turmoil, a part of him realized. He had to keep control for the moment. He needed to analyze his father's actions. It seemed such a weak claim, with Standard words and no meld, but this made him suspicious. Sarek knew the Vulcan ways by heart, more than he would ever do... why would his father do such a thing...?

"Do you retract your claim, son?" Sarek's voice penetrated his thoughts, and Spock straightened his back. "No." The time of musing was over -- he had to lay his claim by action now.

He stripped, outlining his proceedings in his mind. Feeling the air of the room cooling his skin, he suddenly felt like awakening from a dream. The smoldering, vague fire inside of him was replaced by a hot sharpness like sun rays converging through a lens. It was no lesser burning, merely another kind of it -- one that he would be able to handle, at least until the fires were rekindled to inflame the bond, merging them together in a new way.

Stepping in front of the human, he looked over him as if he saw him for the first time. The blindfold covered the blue eyes that had so often rested on him in anger and contempt, and he wondered what they would look like now, if he pulled the blindfold away. But he hadn't yet made him experience his other sides; he hadn't yet offered all he could to his mate, but had pushed him away, held down in subjugated distance. If he removed the blindfold now, all that would appear in those blue eyes would be the old hatred.

He traced the face from the cheeks to the chin with his fingers. They came to rest on the almost closed lips, neither welcome nor abhorred there. After brushing over the unmoving, red flesh with his fingertips for a moment, he moved away from them, closing onto the melding points carefully. Again, there was neither welcome nor hatred -- rather the curious, waiting neutrality of the one who would decide in the end. Of course his mate knew who was touching him, and what was happening here. Yet there was no more anger, just as his own had diminished over the last week, slowly silenced by the call of the bond. But absence of anger was not enough upon which to forge the claim.

Spock positioned his fingers on the melding points and softly opened the doors of his own mind, pulling aside his distancing shields. He waited, passively inviting, though a sharp flame had burst through him on the mental contact, which wanted to make him pour himself into the other mind. Controlling this impulse down, he settled in silence, and as if it were the pulse of time he listened to his own heartbeat, counting the seconds, then minutes of his waiting. A reluctant touch it was at first, which reached for his mind, but then the message followed stronger than expected.

// I await thy claim, // the human said in the ancient way, and the Vulcan words shot another fiery bolt through Spock. He briefly closed his eyes, taking three breathes to maintain control.

// You have been taught well, // he answered.

// I await thy claim. // There was no invitation in those words; the human would not lay an easy path for him, Spock realized. Changing the position of his fingers towards a deeper connection, he began his chant.

// I am the Desert of the Day //

// Be Thou my Water //

No answer came, but there was none expected at this point. With eyes still closed, Spock leaned his forehead against the human's own, inhaling the salty smell of his perspiration. Slowly he tasted the liquid with his tongue. Licking over the humid skin, he gleaned the cheeks, the chin, the nose, the lips. He traced a line to an ear, following the round, circling valleys with his tongue, nipping the lobe, only to descend to the neck from there. When he let his hand leave the melding points, he was relieved to find the bond still open. If the human were to close it down, he would have little chance of making a successful claim. After caressing the neck and shoulder with his tongue, he moved towards the throat, and he could feel the human shiver at this touch.

Slowly Spock inclined his head and closed his teeth over the human's throat, sheathing a bit of the sensitive flesh between them. He sucked on the captured skin, walking the thin line between pain and excitement by reading the smallest traces of the human's body and mind language. In his abdomen he felt the heat rising, as his control struggled against the vision of piercing his teeth through the upper layers down to the blood vessels and drinking the red fluid. But his control won, for the moment.

Releasing the skin on the throat, he bent down and sucked on one nipple. The implanted metal bead danced under the skin as his tongue wiggled over its tip, eliciting a clearly aroused moan from the human.

// I am the Desert of the Evening //

// Be Thou my Water //

His hands caressed the slim hips of his mate, rubbing with the thumbs down the line between abdomen and legs. Then he slowly went down to his knees, stroking down the thighs and lower legs with soft touches. Reaching around the body, his hands moved upwards to the buttocks and massaged the solid flesh. Spock felt the small shiver that crawled over the human at his touches, and so he repeated them, rubbing and stroking all over the lower body for a while. The human's chest rose and fell under his increasing breathing, and his body shifted to meet the touches.

Spock wetted a middle finger with his spit and reached around again. Carefully he inserted it into the human's body, searching for the elevated nub. A small gasp reached his ears as he found it, and the hips in front of his eyes twisted backwards, meeting his finger. Cautiously he rubbed over the prostate, while his other hand now moved to the human's soft penis. He fetched it and took it in his mouth, enclosing it with his lips. Closing his eyes, he opened his mind fully towards his mate.

// Feed my Thirst, my Ko-Adun, // he chanted the ancient plea in his mind.

// Be my Winter Rain, the Blue Storm on the Forge. //

At first the silence persisted, but then the answer came.

// Nourish You I Will //

Warm, salty fluid sprang into his mouth, and he took the traditional three deep gulps before he withdrew his head. More liquid pulsed out the human's body, flowing down the Vulcan's face and chest.

// My Thirst is Stilled. May Your Water Make the Desert Flourish // Spock's mind voiced.

// May it Bloom Like our Bond Blooms // his mate replied.

For a moment Spock let his head hang in relief and exhaustion, pressing his wet cheek into the human's abdomen and wallowing in the smell of the waterworlder. But when he felt their bodies shiver in unison, he stood up and embraced his mate. // I will warm you. //

Someone approached him, and hands guided him away from his mate. Unwillingly he let him loose, and only when he felt a towel wrapped around him did he began to notice his surroundings again. He met his father's gaze.

"The claiming was sufficient," Sarek stated emotionlessly. "You may close the final belt."

Spock stretched out his hands to receive the belt, and he couldn't control his trembling, as he took it. Suddenly, in the clearing haze of the burning, he realized what this had been all about.

"You never intended to claim him," he said in Vulcan, and clenched his hands around the belt. "You did this only to prove your mastery over us."

All Sarek did was to raise his glass of wine in the gesture of Terran toasts. "I congratulate you to your spouse, my son. May his font never run dry."

Fighting off the overwhelming humiliation with his last bit of control, Spock turned around. He would take his revenge on his father in the future, but for now all that counted was his mate. The human was washed and rubbed dry already, and clung to the upper bar with a tight grip, unsuccessfully fighting the remaining tremor.

// We will be finished soon, my mate, // Spock sent for reassurance, as he reached around to close the golden belt around the human's waistline and between the legs. The faint sound of the lock made the human moan in arousal, and Spock felt the heat pulsing in both of them.

// Please, don't stop, // the human pleaded, dropping out of the ritual setting.

// The claiming was successful. All else is our private business, for which we will retreat to my cabin. //

A servant bent down and released the human's ankles from the bar, while Spock freed the cold wrists. He captured his swaying mate in one arm and removed the blindfold. There was no more hate in those blue eyes, as they met his searching gaze. Wordlessly Spock took the offered robes and dressed them both. They left side by side without looking back.

*

The next morning, Spock was awakened from his light sleep by the sound of the door chime. Hastily he stepped out of bed, careful to not disturb his sleeping mate, and put on his meditation robe, before he answered the call. The door opened to reveal his father.

Wordlessly Spock stepped back from the entrance, and wordlessly Sarek passed him. In his wake, a servant carried a box into the room and placed it on the table, before disappearing again. Sarek opened the cover, reaching inside. "Here you will find all the keys to his cuffs and the belt, and other means to pursue his training," he said. Then he fetched a small disk, holding it upright until the light was distorted in it. "You will also find records of my previous actions, as well as supplemental material on training a Ma-vel'sanosh." Dropping the disk again, he looked up to meet Spock's gaze. "Or did you think that his behavior is that of a normal ko-adun?"

Spock was still standing next to the now closed door with his hands clasped behind his back, and his nails once more drew blood in his palms. The pain from the marks was a necessary reminder of his continued existence, as the feeling of surrealism overwhelmed him. Were he a human, he would presume he was trapped inside a dream.

"A pleasure possession?" he finally repeated.

"Indeed," Sarek said, and stepped towards the entry of the bedroom, looking down on the silent figure. Behind him Spock took a deep breath, controlling his impulse to protect the sleeping human. When Sarek turned around on the threshold, the softness in his gaze took Spock by surprise.

"Humans are so much like pets, you must know... tame them and they will lick your hand, even when you beat them," Sarek said, his eyes drifting away for a second. Then they focused on Spock, sharp and dark. "I've trained she who was your mother, many years ago. This one was just as pleasing."

In his back Spock felt wetness trickle down his palms. It all fell into place for him now... how often had he sat on her lap, clamping his hands into her dress and pleading her to give his father some well-earned letdown, to resist him, to reject him, but never did she answer his pleas. Soft and obedient Amanda had been, no matter how Sarek had treated her. A well-trained dog, he realized now, licking her owner's hand. Hatred was too weak a word to describe his feelings for his father at this moment.

Sarek stepped towards the door. Passing his son, he said, "I will leave now; we have arrived at our destination. May your life with your mate be as satisfying as was mine with your mother."

The automatic door opened, and Spock watched him leave; the feared father figure of his childhood, the despised patriarch of his youth -- now the man he would kill, would he ever get the chance. White walls met in front of his eyes, closing off the view into the corridor. He momentarily swayed when he released his hands and brought them in front of him, staring at the green spots. Shivering, he rubbed the palms against each other, back and forth, distributing the green all over until it was a thin layer on his skin. Visions of bathing his fingers in his father's blood flashed before his eyes, fogging his view. He shook them away as he staggered towards the bedroom and bent over the silent figure.

"Wake up," he rasped, clasping his fingers into the cushion and pulling it away from the sleeping human. The body beneath still lay unmoved, but the blue eyes opened, giving him a sleepy gaze.

"I said, wake up," Spock hissed, and slapped the human hard. For a second, fear flashed over the features, but then his mate's face softened again.

Spock closed his hands over the human's arms and shook him hard. "Look at me, McCoy. Look at me!"

A weary gaze met his, a question in its depth. The lips were slightly open, an invitation painted over them.

"Where is your hate, McCoy?" Spock said intensely. "You hated me, I hated you. I abused and beat you, over and over again. Spit in my face, McCoy."

His hands cramped into the yielding flesh until the human moaned in pain, his head falling back into his neck with eyes closed.

"Yes, feel the pain I cause," Spock said roughly. "Hate me, McCoy, for all I did to you."

The human opened his eyes again. "I am yours, Spock," he said. "You claimed me. It is your right to do whatever you want with me."

Releasing the human as if he had a contagion, Spock rushed up. "Every right?" he hissed. "I will show you how I will use my rights." He walked over to the main room, opening the box. The heavy, braided khaf whip was there, just as he had expected, and he grabbed it and went back towards the bedroom. In burning madness he delivered the first blow on his victim, coloring the pale flesh instantly blue, and with each following blow he pressed out his words.

"It -- is -- my -- right -- to -- do -- that?"

Under the whip, the human winced and finally cried, clutching his hands above his head into the frame of the bed, but making no attempt to escape the attack. Spock delivered a final hit, which drew blood that spread over the blanket. Then he threw the whip away and knelt over the human. "Is that my right?" he pressed through clenched teeth, and then shook his mate as no answer came but the human's sobbing.

Spock grasped the slim legs, lifting the human's abdomen to position himself again the stretched opening, which was still wet from the events of the night before.

"My right?" he asked once more, and then he groaned as he impaled the man under him. "I will exert my right, and take you as I like," he said through clenched teeth. He began to thrust into and against the cooler flesh. On his legs warm wetness pressed against him, and he knew the red blood was layering his skin, just as his own blood had layered his hands before; on his groin, the metal surface of the belt rhythmically touched his flesh. Clamping his hands until his knuckles shown white, he stretched the human's legs to the side and took him violently now, pounding with unrestricted force. He wanted to hurt McCoy, to shake him to the core and make him cry in pain until he would confront him again in defiance, subordination, resistance...

His arms closed around the legs as he came in spasms deep inside his victim's shaking body, and only when his tremors had subsided, did he open his eyes again. Under him the human was still sobbing.

Spock pulled out of the wet hole, smears of red on his cock. His fingertips traveled over the bleeding welts on the human's inner thighs for a moment before he lay down on the human's side and grasped the bloodless cheeks with his hand, pulling his mate's head around to face him fully. Spock focused on the blue eyes that were filled with tears now, desperately waiting to see the old feelings again. But there was nothing besides enduring compliance.

"I am sorry if I failed your expectations," the human whispered in a broken voice. "Tell me how to please you, Spock. Teach me how to do it right. I want to make it right for you. Teach me how to do it."

Weakly Spock lowered his forehead on the human one's, sharing the salty wetness. In his chest, his lungs felt like suffocating under the iron band of defeat.

"May I go to the bathroom?" the human finally asked diffidently.

"You may," Spock replied. Rotating around on the torn blanket, he watched McCoy's figure disappearing into the shades. And for the first time in decades, he felt like crying.

*

On the other side of the ship, Sarek's entourage boarded the shuttle, ready for departure. Sarek himself remained a moment longer in the shuttle bay to exchange a few last words with the captain.

"Ambassador," Kirk said with a bow of his head, "it was a pleasure to meet you."

"I return the compliment," Sarek replied. "I must congratulate you on your extraordinarily successful plan, Captain Kirk."

"Plan?" Kirk replied slowly.

"You know what I mean, Captain. It was devious. And I tend to be impressed by people who are able to develop such devious plans." Sarek gazed probingly into the human's brown eyes. "You are a very clever and inventive human, Kirk. Consider this to be a rare compliment."

Kirk visibly chewed on the Vulcan's statement. Then he blinked. "T'Opal?"

Ignoring the human's question, Sarek split his hand into the ta'al. "I bid you farewell. May your journeys be prosperous." He turned without awaiting any answer from Kirk, and boarded the shuttle craft. When it had left the hangar, he sat in the rear and watched the Enterprise engage her engines.

"Why did you tell him?" T'Opal said on his back. Her fingertips traveled down his spine.

"He is too sure of himself. That makes him careless," Sarek said, ignoring her touch. He had not yet forgotten her insubordination, and would decide upon a fitting punishment later. "The human's memories will re-surface one day, and then Kirk will face two very dangerous enemies."

"How very farsighted," she replied, but when he didn't answer, she wordlessly left him alone. Sarek stared out of the window where the Enterprise was disappearing on impulse speed, a small white spot in the darkness. When it had vanished, he closed his eyes and opened the connection towards the human's mind...


End file.
